What is the responsibility of the Orthodox Jewish writer?

Published under pseudonym by a secular company, a frum woman recently authored a book about molestation in a Chassidic home. Judging by reviews, the author wrote a realistic description of the community she portrays outside the abuse issue. Many reviewers even found her portrayal of Jewish customs compelling and beautiful. However, the main thrust of the novel is that this insular community covers up child abuse, thus aiding and abetting the abuser. Another troubling aspect of the book is that it is marketed towards teens.

Clearly, the author wants to publicize what is a grave issue for any community. However, no frum publisher would touch such a book. The anonymous author decided to submit to a secular publisher. And there the trouble starts. Now, most of the readers of this book are not even Jewish. A minute problem in terms of numbers (not severity) turns into a horrifying generalization about the Chassidic community in the eyes of many readers. She has essentially thrown her own community under the bus in the hope someone will read the book and report abuse. Yet the very community whose eyes the author wants to open doesn’t generally even read books published by secular publishing houses!
The author makes it look like the entire Orthodox community pretends molestation doesn’t exist and would avoid reporting it at all costs. Perhaps that was the case in the past, but you can’t make such a statement today. There are some people who turn a blind eye on abuse in the Orthodox world, just as there are such people in the world at large. However, there are currently Orthodox organizations equipped to deal with child abuse, and many (if not most) Orthodox people would report the crime and support the victim.

Even if the small slice of the Orthodox community portrayed in the book continues to do cover it up, secular readers don’t understand enough to differentiate between Modern Orthodox, Litvishe, Chassidishe, Eidot HaMizrach, etc. They don’t know the difference between Lubavitch, Ger, Belz, and Satmar. Many will assume all religious Jews are aiding and abetting child molesters.
This debacle provokes the broader question: what is the responsibility of the Orthodox writer to her community when she represents it to the world at-large? Clearly, a PR campaign between the covers of a book is inappropriate. Over-idealizing the religious Jewish community is preferable to demonizing it, but it’s still disingenous. It also compromises the complexity of characters in a novel. I think there’s a balance that is difficult to achieve, and I’m always impressed when it is done skillfully. An example of this is the mystery Now You See Me by Rochelle Krich; another is the novel Seven Blessings by Ruchama King Feuerman.
It would be interesting if the anonymous author’s cover ever is “blown”. Will she tell us then how she feels when she sees that her book caused one woman to write the following:

“The author note following this story was even more disturbing, as an Ultra Orthodox she was raised in society such as this. She explains how components of this story were actually experiences that she had experienced in her own life. I try to believe that I maintain a fairly open mind to all ways of life, but I can not say that I felt anything positive about this lifestyle.”
Another writes:

“Imagine growing up in a world where most of your life is planned out for you and where women are little more than things to marry off and produce children. Imagine not having a voice and imagine that no one would believe a word you said, simply because you were a woman?”
Is this (extremely simplistic and inaccuarate) impression what the author intended to leave her readers with?

[Added at a later date: The book’s author has since revealed her identity. Her name was not entirely a surprise, because the writing skill evident in the book and alleged background limited the field greatly. The author won a major book prize and continues to advocate on the topic of abuse. While there has been increased attention since the publication of the book to crimes against children, unfortunately this may have less to do with the book in question, but rather to the death of Leiby Kletzky and several molestation incidents in the news, both in the Jewish community and not.


Upon further reflection, I still agree with my initial statement that the book should not have been published in a non-Jewish setting. However, I think that Jewish publication houses need to step up to the plate and produce books on controversial or distasteful topics. There are Jewish answers on how to react to these situations–answers for Jewish audiences–and they need to be shared within the community. The author of this book desperately wanted people to hear her message so they would act on this tragic shortcoming, but a Jewish publisher wouldn’t handle her book. While several articles in publications like Mishpacha and HaModia (couched in very subtle wording so as to be sensitive but clear) had appeared about molestation long before this book came out, books on this topic and other similarly “immodest” ones have been considered a big no-no, along with many other sensitive topics. Another recent book–on teaching the birds and bees to the Jewish child–was refused by a number of Orthodox presses, so the author self-published. G-d forbid a Jewish parent adopt an inappropriate approach to the “Conversation” simply because they don’t have access to the right book and turned to a secular one.]

From Michael Chabon to Dara Horn to Ruchama King: Literary Jewish writing for adults

In literary circles, there’s much talk of the “new Yiddishists” movement. This includes writers such as Michael Chabon, Ayelet Waldeman, Nicole Krauss, Jonathan Safran Foer, Lev Grossman, and Dara Horn. All of these writers bring somethings of their Jewish identity to the page: Jewish characters, the Yiddish and Hebrew languages, allusions to holidays, midrashim, shared history, and the like. These writers are quite gifted…I’d highly recommend Krauss’s The History of Love and Horn’s In the Image for those who want to see spiritual introspection balanced with imaginative storytelling. However, their books aren’t “Orthodox”.
Many if not most of the novels published by Orthodox publishers were written originally as serials in magazines or by those used to writing for magazines. This is not bad–in fact I enjoy many of these books–it’s just a very different style of storytelling. Writing a serial for the first time myself right now, I can see that as fun as they are to read and to write, they are different. You have deadlines and word counts hanging over your head. You have publishers and readers who will be furious if you don’t complete the project. Readers want to see a lot going on in each episode, yet be able to keep the plot in their head from week to week. There are mashgichim at both the religious magazines and religious publishing houses who must be satisfied. For them, the message is considered at least as important as the form, if not more.
In the secular world, a novelist has different requirements. You need space for character development. Time to ponder and reconsider and revise. You might want to capture a wider range of emotions and topics than necessarily acceptable to a mashgiach. You might want to venture into experimental structure. You might want an audience beyond the religious community. The artful novelist does not necessarily thrive under the conditions usually found in the frum publishing world.
There are exceptions. Here’s one: currently, HaModia has an amazing serial called This is America. I’ve been following it for a year and am praying that it will end up in a novel form at its conclusion because I want to recommend it to all my friends. It’s THAT good. Also, Sarah Shapiro’s writing–though not fiction–shows a flair and precision of language that is rare in even the secular world. It often reads like a novel even when it is non-fiction.
In the past few years, the climate for Orthodox literature has changed. Interestingly, it seems to be occurring when secular publishers put out Orthodox books, partly I think because of the success of the likes of Chabon, Horn, et al.
For a couple of decades, Rochelle Krich has been a trailblazer in this department. Her mysteries are particularly well-written and substantive. I’d describe the pacing and plotting of her early books as the stuff of bestsellers, not the “literary novel.” However, her more recent Molly Blume novels have become increasingly literary.
Krich’s successors are finding their works in the bookstores and libraries across America now. Risa Miller has put out two prize-winning books: Welcome to Heavenly Heights and My Before and After Life. (I particularly enjoyed the later.) Ruchama King Feuerman’s Seven Blessings has invited comparisons to Jane Austen. She autopsies the shidduch culture of BTs in Jerusalem, yet does so with humanity, not scorn. Though not a novelist, the award-winning poet Yehoshua November also demonstrates that it is possible to be sophisticated in form and substance and frum.
I was extremely hopeful when I saw the website for The Writer’s Cafe, an Orthodox literary magazine. Perhaps this would be a format for Jewish writers to print more material “outside the box.” However, it appears that the project is at least temporarily suspended. I was disappointed at the news and hope it comes back. The new Ami magazine (disclaimer, my new serial appears in their “tween” supplement) also aspires to a different style of writing.
I’m hoping that readers will buy into this new model, because I think the scarcity of reading material that is “kosher” in the market right now drives more avid readers to read secular material that contains inappropriate language and ideas. I also see that improving the style of Jewish literature and its accessibility brings with it the opportunity for Jews to be a light unto the nations. Books like Seven Blessings and My Before and After Life bring healthy hashkafa into the lives of non-Jews as well as Jews who might not pick up a more stereotypical “frum book”.

great news!

I haven’t been active on my page for a while, but I wanted to share good news with anyone who drops by.

I’ve been publishing articles on the website www.metroimma.com about parenting small children and connection between real-life and classic children’s books.
The new Jewish magazine, Ami, is now available by subscription at http://www.amimagazine.org/ and on the newsstands in NYC and Chicago…hopefully, it’ll be available in all major Jewish markets soon. I’m co-authoring one of the weekly serials contained in the Aim tween supplement (my co-author is Beth Firestone, known for her novel Candles in my Window). It’s entitled “To the Edge of the Galaxy”. The story follows the adventures of an Orthodox family chosen to colonize a distant planet. I’m hoping all you readers up there will pick up a copy of Ami and try it out!

Additionally, Mishpacha Junior magazine published a story of mine a couple of months ago and expects to publish another soon. I’m really enjoying writing for periodicals and will continue to list my ongoing projects.

My Two Special Grandmothers

This is a little poem I wrote in honor of my mother and mother-in-law. It’s only loosely based on reality, but my mother is really from Baltimore, and my mother-in-law really is from Israel (born in Alexandria, Egypt). I felt it was important to tell the story of a little kid who is partly Ashkenazi and partly Sephardi, because so many families are now “mixed” like that. Happy Mother’s Day, everyone!

Savta moved here from Israel.

Bubbe grew up in Baltimore.

Both of them now live in the United States.

When I visit, Savta says, “Mami, you are chamood!”

Bubbe calls me zees.

I love to visit them both.

On the phone before the Sabbath, Savta says, “Shabbat shalom!’

Bubbe wishes me, “a gut shabbes.”

Both of them pray that I grow up well after they say the brachah on their candles.

On Rosh Hashanah, Savta rushes to the beit kanesset.

Bubbe runs to shul.

Both of them sit quietly with me to hear the shofar.

In the fall, Savta drapes colorful rugs in her sukkah.

Bubbe hangs Indian corn from the schach.

Both of them string up the decorations I made in school.

Savta rolls cotton into wicks and pours olive oil into Saaba’s Chanukah lamps.

Bubbe places tiny wax candles into Zeyde’s menorah.Both of them set the Chanukiahs in front of the window for everyone to see.

On Purim, Savta sends me baklava and halva in my shalach manot.

Bubbe floats kreplach in my soup.

Both of them remind me to use my gragger when I hear “Haman”.

Savta checks her rice before Pesach.

Bubbe tosses hers into a sealed cupboard.

Both of them crunch through their matzah at the seder.

While I sit on her lap, Savta tells me about when she was a girl in Egypt.

Bubbe tells her bubbe‘s story of fleeing Russia in the night.

Both of them are happy to live in a free country.

My two special grandmothers are as different as can be.

They came from different places with different history.

But together they helped to make one special ME!

In the beginning…

…there was a rejection letter. O.K., lots of rejection letters. I’ve published one children’s book (A Dozen Daisies for Raizy in 2008) and have spent years trying to sell another, unsuccessfully. After spending so much time writing and rewriting and workshopping my stories, I couldn’t just toss them out with the garbage. What should I do with them? Serialize and post on the web!

In this blog you’ll get daily (well, more likely twice-weekly) installments of stories. Most of the stories will have Jewish content and characters, but not all will. Some might be better than others. Feedback is always welcome.